


Moon Rise

by GhostCwtch



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Gen, Werewolf John Watson, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5275745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostCwtch/pseuds/GhostCwtch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson has been keeping a secret from Holmes for some time now. Several days in a cell during their latest case are about to force his hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moon Rise

It had been nearly seventeen years since a full moon had caught him unawares. He'd nearly killed his brother in the shock of the change and had been meticulous about charting out the moon times ever since. However, serving as the biographer of Sherlock Holmes occasionally lead him into such circumstances that concealing his condition became very difficult indeed.Watson wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to conceal it for this long, assuming that it was only Holmes's own refusal to believe in the supernatural.

 

After tonight there would be no hiding, no way Watson could deny his nature or that Holmes could doubt. They were in a small cell, had been for several days despite Holmes's skill as a lock pick, and the moon was rising. His increased strength would let them break down the door and escape, but was escape really worth the loss of a friend? For surely Holmes would leave him, a dangerous monstrosity out of myth and legend.

 

Watson sat in the far corner of the cell and let his head thunk back against the brick work. It had been much easier before the war, when he'd lived in the country. His family knew of course, it was an inherited disease after all. Every Watson changed, though at different times, and it was no surprise at all when one night the baby John had turned into a tiny cub. The control over the change took some time and they would always have to change at least a few nights of the month but it was generally seen as a time of freedom.

 

That was in the country.

 

In the war it had been almost impossible to hide, and without Murray's help Watson would've never been able to do it. Living in London was it's own hardship as well. He had to change in his rooms and hope that Holmes would assume that the clicking of claws was just Gladstone, even though the stride was much too long for the portly bulldog.

 

He felt the tingling feeling of an oncoming change and fisted his hands, trying to hold it off. Holmes noticed, of course he did in the one time Watson did not wish for his attention.

 

"Are you quite alright, Watson?"

 

He clenched his jaw tighter as the tingling became a more insistent burning. He had to change, and if he tried to hold out any longer he might lose control and that could not be allowed to happen with his dearest friend so near. 

 

"Holmes, I need you to look away." 

 

"What? Why on earth--"

 

"Just do it Holmes!"

 

The detective turned reluctantly away and Watson lurched to his feet and stripped out of his clothing with shaky hands. No reason to ruin a good suit after all. As he released his firm hold on the change and felt it ripple over him, he couldn't help but revel in the sense of freedom that it always brought with it. 

 

He looked up from a further distance than usual to find Holmes staring at him in utter fascination. Watson huffed a sigh and padded over to the door of their cell. He knew what Holmes was seeing, had seen it countless times in the mirror and reflected in the wolf forms of his family. 

 

He did not look like a normal wolf. There was a suggestion of fingers in the length of his forepaws and he could grasp items if they were large enough. His fur was the color of the hair on his human form. His muzzle was a bit shorter than a true wolf's and his ears were perhaps set a bit further apart, but the true tell of his nature was his size. Even walking mostly on all fours, Watson as a wolf was easily the size of a large pony.

 

Holmes had retreated to where Watson had left his folded suit while the doctor sized up the door. What had been an immovable object to his human self was easily ripped asunder with his new strength.The screech of protesting metal was sure to draw the guards, and while he didn't particularly fear for himself, there was a chance that they would get a lucky shot and hurt Holmes.  

 

Turning away from the open portal, Watson padded closer to Holmes, whining deep in his throat when his friend paled and pressed himself against the wall. Watson dropped to his belly and inched forward, his ears pinned back and whimpering. He could honestly say he'd never degraded himself thus in wolf form before, but for Holmes the kicked puppy routine was worth the effort.

 

Holmes's mind never allowed itself to be ruled by fear for long and after a moment he grated out, "Watson?"

 

Watson wuffed and thumped his tail against the floor enthusiastically. 

 

"When we get back to Baker Street, you and I are going to have a very long talk, my dear fellow."

 

Stooping to gather Watson's clothing, Holmes lead the way out of the cell and stormed down the hallway. The oncoming guards were frozen in their attack by the ferocious growls and burning yellow eyes that followed the detective. When the police arrived sometime later, the criminals all swore to admit their crimes to the last, so long as Sherlock Holmes and his pet demon were kept far away from them.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written some time in the past and posted else where. Uploaded here mainly for archiving purposes.


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